Together In Death
by Mr Obscenity
Summary: In a world where one plus one equals zero, two people dream of love.
1. Icewater Blood

Seimei's hand flew across the boy's face. Red hair fell across the boy's eyes. He would not give this man the pleasure of seeing the tears they hid.

"That lost delivery," Again, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the air. "Was worth more than you." Natsuo bit his tongue, though despite his efforts a small whimper escaped his lips. None too gently, the man's gruff hands seized a handful of the boy's hair, so that their eyes were now at the same level. Natsuo stared back with all the defiance he could muster, which was surprisingly much, seeing all the shaking he was doing inside. But, then again, it was this man who had taught him how to hate.

For a moment, Seimei simply stood there, staring into the boy's eyes. To Natsuo, the lilac orbs seemed to be probing him. "Natsuo," The sound of cool, enunciated words filled the air, as he continued to stare into the boy with that calculating gaze. "I'm beginning to think you want to return to life on the street. Is that what you want?"

Natsuo tried to hide the fear that entered him with those words. But as the memories came back to him, as all the emotions relived themselves in his head, he couldn't help but let the fear show in his eyes. For although living here as Seimei's pawn was far from perfect, life on the street was a hundred times worse. He would rather serve this heartless bastard then return to the place where he had lost his eye. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. When he finally looked down, they were a ghostly white.

A knowing smile formed on Seimei's face. He knew just as well as Natsuo that the boy was dependent on him. How much Natsuo would have liked to take his hand and smack that smug grin off the man's pompous face. It seemed Seimei saw this too. "You carry such hate, Natsuo." His voice remained the usual as he continued, calm and devoid of emotion. "Hate is a poison. It can help a person survive. It can even destroy a powerful enemy. But…" His voice trailed off, his cool gaze continuing to search the boy. "If left unchecked for too long, it destroys the one who carries it." The man's eyes taunted Natsuo's helplessness from their perfect lilac frames. Slowly, Natsuo raised his fist. For a moment, he thought he could see a trace of fear in the back of Seimei's eyes. But as his fist simply hung there in the air, shaking, they both knew he couldn't do it. It was all too clear that he would rather cope with this man's abuse than risk life on the streets again. They both knew the truth. Natsuo was trapped. Trapped like an animal in a cage. Seimei's lips took on the form of a smile. Even when he smiled, his eyes remained cold.

He brought his face closer to Natsuo's, so close the boy could smell the faint scent of laundry detergent on his freshly pressed shirt. Like everything else about Seimei, it was almost too perfectly done, as if any flaws whatsoever would not be tolerated. As if mediocrity itself would not be tolerated. "This is your last chance." To Natsuo this last remark sounded like more of a death sentence than an opportunity. "If you lose this one," Natsuo knew his next words before he spoke them. "I'll kill you." There was no lie in the man's voice, no lie in those cold, unfeeling eyes.

Seimei released the tuft of red hair and watched expressionlessly as the boy collapsed to the floor. "Here." He tossed a bag of coins at the boy. "Take this to our friend on Forester Lane, along with my compliments."

Natsuo picked himself up off the floor and shoved the bad of coins into his pocket. The sound of the coins jingling was almost enough to make him sick. More dirty money. The boy honestly did not want to know what favor these particular coins paid for.

Just as he reached the door, the sound of the man's cool voice ravaged his ears. "Oh, and Natsuo." Even the sound of his voice made the boy cringe. It was too enunciated. Too stripped of emotion. _Too…_ Natsuo searched for the word. It reminded him of the mechanical turning of wheels of a calculating mind; the precise ticking of a clock; the cool, metallic coins in his pocket. "There are many slow ways for a man to die. Remember that." As the sound of his voice died away, Natsuo found the word he had been looking for. _Inhuman. _

Seimei's eyes never missed much. They took in the way Natsuo dragged his feet when he walked; the walk of one without hope or purpose. They noticed the boy's eyes go strangely vacant when he spoke to him, as if part of him was off in some far away place. But most of all, he noticed Natsuo's body go stiff at his last comment, before continuing out the door and out of sight. However, what he did not see, was Natsuo's cold heart, as he silently made the same vow he did every time he came back to this place. _One day,_ The substance being pumped through his veins felt more like ice-water as he reassured himself of these words. _One day, I will spit on that bastard's grave. _Ice-water blood feeding a cold heart. He smiled at the thought, the only genuine smile he had felt for a long time, as he continued to march down the alleyway to the beat of his cold, dead heart.


	2. Through Glass Eyes

A lone figure sat perched upon a rooftop, looking down into the street, watching, waiting.

With focused eyes he surveyed the crowd below him. The people in the street swarmed by, going about their daily duties, totally unsuspecting. Filthy children played some sort of game in the street corners, as the local baker waddled along with his basket full of hot, fresh bread. The cold wind swept up the aromatic scent to the boy on the roof, reminded him of the hollow emptiness where his stomach should have been. A cross mother took her child out of the game to scold him about the fresh mud stains on his pants. But as soon as her attention was turned on the baker's goods, the little boy wormed his way back to his playmates. None of this escaped the boy on the roof's watchful eyes. However, he had still yet to see what he was looking for. So he continued to wait. He hated waiting. One of his catlike ears twitched in impatience. They longed to hear that sound they favored above all else- the clinking of coin.

It was then that his eyes finally found what they had been searching for. _There._ The small redheaded girl trudged through the crowd, eyes fixed on the ground. Though it wasn't the girl in particular that interested him so much. No, rather it was the sizeable, all too familiar shape in her pant pocket that had caught his attention. Greedy fingers rubbed together in anticipation. It was almost as if they could already feel the cold silver between them.

Though now as he continued to take in his target, he noticed that she was rather pretty. With a petite figure, alabaster skin, and those eyes… Yes, those eyes. Those eyes that looked down as if they would never see the sun again; eyes that searched the ground as if the answers they searched for would be written on the very street they walked. He couldn't be sure, but for a moment, he could almost feel something strange forming inside of him. But of course it was only for a moment. Because by the end of that moment, the boy had already shrugged it off.

She would do. After all, he might as well just consider it a bonus. His lips twisted into a smile at the thought. _Yes, a bonus…_ He stroked his virgin ears thoughtfully at the notion.

All the boy's muscles tensed as his victim suddenly took a sharp turn down an alleyway. It was time to go. The crudely written sign above the side street read Forester Lane. _What's this? _The figure asked himself as he jumped down from his hiding place. An easy target and a bonus. It was almost too easy. As he mingled into the crowd, Yoji couldn't help but laugh silently too himself. _Almost._


	3. Footsteps

Twilight had painted the alleyway red with its last, dying light. There were no lanterns to light your way here, in this maze of side streets. Natsuo quickened his pace. He wanted to get there before everything was completely dark. Although he would never admit it aloud, he hated being in the streets at night. He hated the way he could hardly see what was two feet in front of him. He hated the feeling that something sinister was waiting around each and every unlit corner. But most of all, he hated the way it made him feel. It covered everything in its impenetrable blackness, enveloping everything in its total absence of light. It surrounded him tonight, like a huge, dark fist.

Yes, he hated being alone in these streets at night.

He hated it because it made him feel vulnerable. To the vast blackness engulfing him, he was helpless. He was powerless. And he hated that most of all.

And tonight it seemed to be worse than usual. He kept getting the distinct feeling he was being followed. It was almost as if he could feel eyes watching his every move, following his every step...

Natsuo shook his head, as if such thoughts could be shaken also. But much as he told himself he was imagining things, he still found himself looking over his shoulder repeatedly, and feeling for the cold, assuring blade of the dagger that lay hidden underneath his shirt.

_ What was that? _His ears perked up at the sound. It had been ever so slight, so terribly subtle, but he was almost certain he had heard them.

_ Footsteps._

Ears erect, he stopped, and, for a moment, simply stood there. _Silence._Complete and utter silence._Almost too quiet, like the pause before a storm…_ Natsuo fought back the shiver that crept into his spine.

The boy turned. To his sides stood walls; abandoned and dilapidated houses mostly. He strained his dark eyes to see through the blackness behind him. A cold, night breeze ruffled through his long tresses, blocking his vision momentarily. Raking aside the unruly curls, he checked behind him again. _Nothing.__ Nothing but more crumbling bricks and decrepit homes._ Although he couldn't be sure. There was so much refuse covering this street, he could hardly see the path he had walked just moments ago. Turning back to the way he had been going, he resumed walking, hand clenched shut around the concealed dagger.

Little did he know that sinister monsters weren't the only things that waited around unlit corners.

So he rounded this turn as he had all the others before, totally unbeknownst to the fact that what lay beyond it would change the course of his life. Forever.


	4. Those Eyes

The first thing Natsuo felt after he rounded the corner was the cold, steel surface of a blade at his neck.

Smiling eyes peered at Natsuo from behind the silver blade. "_Boo._"

A dark figure stood in front of him. With one arm, he held the knife up to Natsuo's neck. With the other, he leaned theatrically against an old, dilapidated wall of a house. In the dim lighting, he could have been taken for a mere shadow. Long, silken hair fell to the figure's waist, and through a curtain of bangs, two roguish eyes looked their prey up and down slowly. Ever so slowly. Finally, they worked their way up to Natsuo's face, and then to his eyes, where they remained for the longest time. 

The eyes that stared back at the figure were hostile. Yet he had played this game enough to times to know that hostility more than often disguised fear. 

Natsuo tried to shove past his captor, only to find the knife pressed against his neck even more firmly. 

The figure cocked his head, the moonlight catching in his eyes. "What's the rush?" He spoke in a voice that made this all seem like some sort of game rather than a thievery. 

"Why don't you stay a while?" His hand retired from its place against the wall, moving instead to reach out towards its victim's cheek. Natsuo couldn't help but recoil from the cold touch. Seeing the sudden jolt, the figure's eyes seemed to smile even more, as if this was precisely the effect they wanted. And as the figure began running a hand through his victim's hair, Natsuo noticed that his eyes weren't the only thing smiling. Now his lips took the form too, his grin growing wider and wider every time the redhead shrunk back or resisted. It grew with the growing fear in his victim's eyes, as if that was the only food in the world they needed. 

As the figure's cool fingers felt along his lips, Natsuo could take it no longer. His teeth bit down on the roaming fingers with a crunch. And to his delight that wasn't the only sound he heard. The ping of metal hitting the ground soon followed. 

As swiftly as if it was all he had been doing this his whole life, Natsuo pulled his dagger out from his shirt, and looked up to find that his predator had also recovered his knife and was standing there, just in front of him, the smile long gone from his lips. 

It was then that Natsuo detected the salty taste in his mouth. Instinctively, his gaze wandered over to his opponent's hand. It was dark. Darker than the shadows the figure seemed to be clothed in. It was a liquid dark that ran down his fingers and formed a puddle of black at his feet. 

_Blood._

Natsuo felt the cold gaze of his opponent upon his neck. And it was no surprise that a moment later, his gaze wasn't the only thing he felt there. The cold, now familiar sensation of a knife had come to keep its master's cold-blooded stare company. 

However, what did surprise Natsuo was that when he tried to retaliate and raise his dagger to meet the other's neck, it was already there. 

So there they stood, two figures clothed in darkness in an alleyway painted black with more than just night. 

"Hand it over." The shadow's normally playful voice had grown cold. It reminded Natsuo of an angry child who had just lost a game. 

Natsuo's first impulse was to ask what he meant, but with a simple look at his attacker's knowing eyes and the way they stared hungrily at the bulge in his pocket, it was all too clear. He asked anyway. "What?"

The figure raised an unimpressed eyebrow. In place of a response, he merely increased the pressure of the knife against Natsuo's neck and held out an open palm.

It was simply mind numbing to Natsuo how, without a second thought, he held out his hand to him for the second time that night. _Idiot._By way of answer he brought his knife closer to the tender skin on his enemy's neck. 

The figure rolled his eyes. "This is getting us nowhere."

"Why don't you try letting me go, smartass."

The figure replied back quickly, before Natsuo had even finished talking. "No." Natsuo's proposal was obviously out of the question. 

"Well, unless you've got a better idea…"

The figure simply stood there, with no answer better than silence to give. The sound of rats scurrying about the filth of the alleyway sounded in both the boy's ears. A cloud passed over the moon. The night wind howled in impatience. 

Natsuo cleared his throat. "Well?"

His opponent seemed to groan inwardly as the next few words escaped his lips. "I don't know…" One by one, the stars crawled out into the night's endless expanse. Like a not so far off clever thought climbing into a certain mind. 

Natsuo's attacker continued in a rather pained voice. "I hate to say this, but," To Natsuo's surprise, he felt the cold blade of the knife being lifted off of his neck. "I think I've finally found my match." A smile spread across the figure's face, as slick as jam, as he spoke these last words. 

Natsuo simply stood there, not knowing what to think. _One minute this guy has a knife to my throat. And the next… this._Natsuo shook his head._Maybe he's mentally retarded… _As the redhead stood there, gawking, the word dumbfounded didn't even begin to describe it. 

"So, I guess I'll be going, then." To Natsuo's utter disbelief, his attacker resheathed his knife and began to walk back in the direction he had come from. 

Wearily, Natsuo watched him walk away for a couple of feet, before turning himself and resuming his own walk. After all, he still had a long way to go, and the night wasn't getting any younger… 

It was then he felt what he should have been expecting the whole time. Hands shoved his back towards the ground, forcing his face into the filthy alley floor. As if he needed any clarification as to who had done this, an all too familiar voice came from behind his ear.

"I can't believe you fell for that." The regular sing-song playfulness was back into his enemy's voice, and Natsuo hadn't missed it a bit. And when his attacker flipped him over on his back, he found himself face to face with those eyes. Those pale eyes that all but oozed mischief from their catlike slits. For the record, Natsuo hadn't missed those either. 

"So how about it?" The gleaming eyed imp spoke down at Natsuo from his seat on his victim's chest. "You ready to lose your ears, girl?" He leaned down for a kiss, but Natsuo's lips began to move before he got to them. 

"I'm not a girl!"

The boy perched on his chest merely smiled. "And I'm an old woman."

"No! I'm really no-" 

Natsuo's lips continued to protest, but the boy on top of him paid no heed. His lips silenced the other's words, as his arms began to work. With one hand, he pinned down the other boy's struggling arms. Meanwhile, with his free hand, he began to work his way down his victim's trembling body with startling expertise.

Natsuo suddenly found himself in touch with feelings he had never felt before. For every struggle, for every resist, the boy on top of him only seemed to become all the more involved. For every escaping moan came a firmer kiss to silence it. For every defiant kick came a bite to reimburse him for the pain. At first the boy kept up his futile fight, but after a while he found himself turning away just to earn the feeling of being pulled back into a tighter embrace. What had started out as a crime had suddenly turned into a strange sort of game; a game without rules. And as his attacker's tongue wormed its way into his mouth, he came to realize something. 

There was no use in denying it any longer. Despite himself, he had come to enjoy this game of cat and mouse. 

The boy on top of him was tugged on his shirt now, bringing him back to reality and the rapid surfacing of feelings that came along with it. He heard the fabric rip seconds before he felt the cool night air pour onto his bare chest. He couldn't help but let loose the shiver that crept up his spine. Before he knew it, he found himself caught up in this dance of torn clothing and uninhibited feelings. 

_Before he knew, it he found himself kissing back._

Much to Natsuo's surprise, his attacker's whole body seemed to go rigid at the unanticipated reaction. It was as if his whole body had suddenly froze. Even his practiced hands seemed to forget what they were doing. Yoji's mind whirled. Surely he had just imagined it. But as he looked down at the boy below him, he noticed something different about the way the redhead stared back at him. No, he realized, there was nothing imagined at all about the look in those dark eyes. 

Natsuo could have laughed, the look of confusion drawn across the other boy's face was so comical. But instead, he found a cool smirk spread itself across his lips, as he reached up to pull the other boy's face towards his.

How had this happened to him? In a period of mere seconds, Yoji had gone from predator to prey. From hunter to hunted. He could have recognized that smug grin on the other boy's face anywhere. He had worn it more than often on nights like these. But never before had it gotten this reaction. Never before… had it been quite like this._From hunter to hunted. _Yoji hardly had time to think, let alone close his startled eyes, before he felt the warm sensation of the other boy's lips on his.

Soon everything was back to its nonsensical tangle of unrestrained limbs. Without further thought, Natsuo pulled the shirt over his partner's head, shuddering slightly at the sudden sensation of warm flesh pressed against his. Without further thought, Yoji's hands seemed to remember their skill, as made their way down towards Natsuo's pants. Without further thought, the two strangers continued to explore places they had never before known existed. They continued to discover feelings they had never felt before. Together, they continued to create their own world. It was an exciting new place, where feelings needn't have names, where reason was irrelevant; a place where Pleasure came to steal you away to until morning. For, in this world where nothing made any sense whatsoever, thought was the last thing on the two boys minds. In the darkened alleyway of Forest Lane, thought was not welcome.

The sound of unzipping echoed throughout the alleyway's decaying walls. A sound soon followed by a gasp.

"You're not a girl!" Yoji's shaken voice had escaped louder than he had intended it to. It exited a shout, at best.

And as fate would have it, the two boys were not the only ones who had heard the sudden outburst. 

Two swaggering men rounded the corner to find two filthy, shirtless boys clinging to each other among the muck of the street. 

A boot caught Yoji in the face. Natsuo clung onto his arm in desperation, but it was no use. The night's spell was broken. Their secret, beautiful world was shattered. Clutching his cheek, Yoji, ran, vanishing into the night, as if he really had been nothing more than a shadow all along. 

Quickly, Natsuo leapt to his feet and prepared to run after him. But not quickly enough to escape the large, brutal hands that locked onto a fistful of his long hair. Natsuo yelped as another hand seized his wrist and roughly spun him around. Two sneering pairs of eyes scrutinized the boy with unmasked distaste. Natsuo could feel something warm running down his scalp. 

"You were right. He is Seimei's boy." The man on the right spoke to the other, as if asking Natsuo himself was simply out of the question. 

At the mention of the name, Natsuo's blood ran cold. _Seimei._All the pleasure and beauty of the past moments seemed to vanish all in a second, leaving him alone to face the harsh, cold truth of reality. _Seimei._His heart seemed to beat so terribly fast now, as he remembered how he had ended up out here, in this godforsaken alley, in the first place. Instinctively, his hand flew to his pants pocket.

For the second time that night, Natsuo felt what he should have been expecting all along.

_Nothing._

The man on the right brought his mocking eyes closer to the boy. Natsuo could smell the bitter ale on his breath. "Just wait until your master hears what you've been up to." As the sound of drunken laughter filled the alleyway, Natsuo could've sworn he felt those cold, unfeeling eyes on him already. 


	5. Pervert

Sorry I haven't written in such a long time

Now you're probably waiting for some huge, gargantuan, incredible explanation as to why.

Well sorry, dear gentle reader, because I don't have one.

It's really just this simple

Once upon a time your favorite author got a really bad hangover that prevented her from thinking, let alone writing, for a very long time.

Then she got grounded.

Then she got suspended.

Then she got grounded (figures).

Then she got a life.

Then she called her mother a whole lot of cute little words starting with the letters and f and b…

Then she got grounded.

Then she lit part of her kitchen on fire.

Then she got grounded (you're getting tired of this aren't you?).

Then she got her appendix taken out.

The end.

Needless to say, 99.9 percent of my adolescent life is spent grounded.

The other .1 percent is spent setting various household appliances on fire.

So obviously there is very little time left for writing chapters for you, my poor gentle reader.

So I'm sorry.

If you have a problem for waiting for a chapter for this long, blame my mother.

Send her some nice juicy hate mail or something.

(Words starting with f and b are encouraged.)

Have a nice day.

--

Yoji ran.

The boy's hair flew behind him, a celadon kite tossed by the wind.

Clutching his sore cheek, he continued on, losing track of space and time. Time was irrelevant. It was an object; a ball kicked to off of the field, no longer in the game. As for where he was running, that was the last thing on his mind. No, tonight, he didn't seem to have a mind. Just the constant sound of his feet pounded the dirt. His mind had left him long ago. It lay forgotten in the dirt of some forgotten street in this maze of back roads and alleyways. The dark, impenetrable night had closed around him, sealing him in a world where time and space had no meaning. A place brimming with emotions without names.

Tonight had been a night of emotions without names… things he had never felt before… He shook his head. No, things he had never wanted to feel before. As he remembered the feeling of the other boy's body so close to his, he felt his face flush. Why was he acting like this? It wasn't like he hadn't ever tangled limbs with a victim before. But tonight… tonight had been so different. The memories played themselves over and over in his head now…

The way that boy had kissed him back…

The way that boy had brought him closer…

_Pervert. _Yoji quickened his pace.

It must have been cold out that night. Yoji saw the clouds of warm breath rise before him. He felt the stab of fingernails into flesh as he curled his hands into tight fists that pummeled the air. He felt the cold sweat crawl down his forehead and into his eyes. But these things were all far away, ever so distant. Like a dream.

Later, the only thing Yoji would remember about that night was the pounding of his feet into the dirt.

The sound urged him on, his footsteps falling to the same beat of that of his pounding, maniacal heart. Translucent pictures filled his empty head. Men's angry faces. Laughing. Jeering. Snivelling. His feet smacked the ground harder as they drifted through, like tormenting ghosts.

It was then another picture came to his mind. This one was brighter, so vivid he could almost see it before him. It was the boy. His russet red hair was hanging over those gleaming eyes, so they peeked out just so. It was all just as he remembered it. Just in front of him in all its raw clarity. The boy's eyes were the stars, radiating mischief as they looked down upon him. His hair was the night sky, tinted a dark red with dawn's oncoming light. His smile was the sliver of sun peeking over the horizon, so cleverly concealed yet so terribly evident…

The feeling of hard ground against Yoji's face brought him back to reality. He shook his head in frustration, silently chiding himself for tripping so carelessly. He propped himself onto his elbows, content to simply lay there in the dirt.

The coins from his pouch had spilled and lay strewn across the alleyway floor. As he stared out at their steely surfaces shining in dawn's early light, he couldn't help but feel something he had never felt before. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one that was not so easy to shake off. It sat there in the alley too, leaning with all its weight upon his chest. It was a persistent little devil, for no matter how many times he shoved it out of his thoughts, it always came back. It gnawed at his cool, collected surface, exposing it for what it really was.

It was as he lay there in the filth of the alleyway, counting each of the scattered coins that the name of the feeling struck him. _Guilt._

He sat up and began to pocket his earnings but Guilt followed him. Yoji shook his head at the feeling, and jingled his nearly full pocket, a sound that nearly always seemed to cheer him up. He smiled sadly. Tonight his ears didn't seem to take much interest in the clink of silver. All they heard was the sound of his heart's foolish beating, over and over… and over. It seemed to be mocking him with its clock-time preciseness.

Yoji's hands worked faster to pocket the coins. He licked his lips at the sight of such earnings. Lips that moments before had tangled with that boy's…

He shook his head, as if trying to shake out the thoughts that wormed themselves in it.

His hands continued to greedily pocket coins. Hands that earlier that night had touched…

Yoji stomped his foot. _Enough._

When he looked down at his hands, his normally skillful, quick hands; he saw them balled into tight fists around the coins. They were shaking.

As he slowly forced his trembling hands open to pry the last coins from them, one of the coins caught his reflection.

He couldn't be sure how long he knelt there in the dirt, staring into the eyes of someone he didn't know. However, when he finally did look up he saw the night sky, he saw it was now morning, the last bits of red fleeing off into the distance, being drowned in a sea of azure.

Red like the cuts his fingernails had dug into his palm…

Red like the boy's hair…

Red like the blood that would pay for his last night's earnings.

Yoji merely stood up and shrugged his shoulders, as if he didn't know that such thoughts couldn't be shrugged off also. As his feet found their way back to the main street, he noticed his hand had found it's way to his lips.

_Pervert..._

He stood there at the end of the alleyway for a moment. To anyone passing by, he would've have seemed lost. And though Yoji knew this city like the back of his hand, though he knew every alleyway, every dark corner and every monster hiding behind it… despite all this, they would have been right.

Yoji had never felt more lost in his entire life.


	6. Canvas

Natsuo tasted dirt.

There on the floor, the smell of iron assaulted his nose, as he heard the whip crack down again. Natsuo flinched and groaned, all the muscles in his body caught in a sudden jolt of searing pain.

Familiar enunciated words filled the room. "Those coins were worth more than you." _Rip. _Seimei yanked the whip back, bringing a spray of young skin and blood with it. _Thrash. _The merciless whip came down on his ravaged back again. All the muscles in his stomach tightened. All the nerves in his back screamed. Natsuo bit his tongue until he tasted salt. "And you'll have to face the consequences of your actions. _Regrettable_ as it may be." To Natsuo there seemed to be something far different than regret behind his master's words. _Rip. _

The cool, composed words gave no relief to Natsuo's ears. "And after all my warnings…" Seimei directed his voice over to the far corner of the room. "I did warn him, didn't I, Nisei?"

A dark figure sat in the corner of the room, his long legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them almost femininely. Long black hair hung down over the majority of his face, though there was no disguising the obviously pleased expression displayed there. A short, musical laugh came from a pair of perfect lips. "You sure did."

Natsuo could almost see the smirk tugging at the corners of Nisei's lips. Whenever Nisei smiled it always started at the corners of his mouth and worked its way in until the middle gave out, like an infection.

If there was anyone in the world Natsuo hated more than Seimei, it was Nisei. Nisei was a dog disguised as a man; a coward hiding behind a smiling mask. When it came to how Natsuo felt about Nisei, hate was no longer a word. Hate was a dark, infectious tumor located two ribs below the heart.

_ Thrash. _Seimei continued. "And I can't go breaking my word now, can I?"

It was clear Seimei's question wasn't looking for an answer but Nisei seemed all too glad to oblige. "No, you mustn't."

"Nisei, shut up."

Nisei fell obediently silent, a dog scolded by its master.

Seimei's cold, collected command ordered the night to silence. And then, Natuso heard something not unlike a sigh. "Nisei."

"Yes?" A picture came to Natsuo's mind of a dog with its ears perked up.

"I tire of this. Would you mind finishing up?" As Seimei took in the look of naked eagerness spread itself across Nisei's face, he restated himself. "No, you wouldn't." _Rip. _He pulled the whip out of Natsuo's back and tossed it to Nisei on his way out the door. "You know what to do."

Natsuo's heart froze as he heard the unmistakable sound of long, drawn-out footsteps towards him. A second later, Nisei had grabbed his wrist and flipped him over in one sudden motion, hitting Natsuo's raw back hard on the floor. Natsuo couldn't help but scream as thousands of hot invisible knives stabbed him up and down his spine.

And there sat Nisei, right in front of him, nearly on top of him, that all too familiar twisted smile splayed across his lips. With one hand he held tight to Natsuo's wrist; with the other he toyed with a strand of dark, raven hair. On one of his long, slender fingers he twirled it around, and around, and around…

Nisei let go of the strand of hair and began to stroke one of Natsuo's virgin ears gently, almost tenderly. "Poor, poor Natsuo. Poor, stupid Natsuo…" His sing-song voice continued. "You thought you finally found love, ne? Thought you found someone that actually cared whether you lived or died…" Suddenly his hand stopped its stoking and brought itself hard across his face. Some of the blood in Natsuo's mouth dribbled down his lips and into the thirsty ground below.

Nisei's lips erupted with laughter; cruel, cold laughter. The only happiness in this laughter sprung from the enjoyment of watching the pained look on Natsuo's face. Nisei's catlike eyes drank the pain in. "Don't fool yourself, Natsuo. The only reason that rat touched you was to get his hands on Seimei's money." His twisted smile broadened. "No one could ever love you."

_ A cat. _Natsuo silently decided. If Nisei had to be an animal, he would definitely be a cat. A cat chasing a helpless little mouse; toying with it, with no intention of letting it go until it ceased to amuse him. Catching it, then letting it go. Catching it, then letting it go. Again, and again, and again… _Definitely a cat._ Natsuo couldn't help but smile at the image.

Nisei's smiled turned suddenly sour. "What are you smiling at?"

The expression on Nisei's face forced Natsuo over the edge. He began to laugh.

Nisei's expression darkened. "Funny, eh? Let's see how funny you think this is, brat!" He raised his hand to strike Natsuo again.

"Quite a temper you've got there, Nisei." A voice came from behind them both. It was both cool and calm, but not inhuman like Seimei's. Nisei's hand froze midair.

"Get out, Soubi." Nisei spoke these words through his teeth, without even so much as turning around.

Natsuo looked behind Nisei's head to see a tall blonde man standing in the doorway. _Soubi. _Natsuo had seen him before, but rarely considering they both lived under the same roof. He had heard Soubi though; late at night when Seimei called him to his room. He remembered when he first came to the building to work for Seimei. Soubi had had ears like his then… Natsuo silently wondered how long it would be until his were stolen too.

"I have a proposition." Natsuo's thoughts were interrupted by that cool, deep voice.

Nisei snorted. "_You_, my dear Soubi? A _proposition_? I had no idea you had such big words in your vocabulary. It was so much easier to think of you as a dumb brute." He shook his head in play regret. "Now I suppose I'll have to refer to you as a smart-"

"Save us from more of your idle chatter. I came here to discuss this child's future, not your opinion of me."

Nisei scowled. "My opinion of you, Soubi-_san_? I could write a book of all my thoughts on you. But why waste words on deaf ears, ne?" His gleaming eyes stared deep into Soubi's, and they both remained silent for a moment, no doubt imagining what the other one would look like with his throat slit. Then Nisei continued on in his ever present sing-song tone. "As for this boy's future, I don't know if you could even call it that, due to the fact that it will be ending so soon. So if you have come down here in hopes that you can somehow save this boy's worthless life, then please just save us both the time and go back up stairs. I'm sure Seimei would enjoy your…" Nisei stopped for a moment to muffle a laugh before continuing, "…_company_."

Natsuo's tilted his head up to study the face of the blonde man before him. He thought for sure it would be riddled with pain and hate towards Nisei and his poisonous words. But yet as he searched this man, Soubi's face, he found none of that. In fact, he found none of anything. The man's face was the perfect picture of nothingness, remaining completely expressionless. It was as pale as a sheet, as blank as a fresh canvas. As Natsuo studied Soubi's face it seemed to say to him "corrupt me." It was as if the fresh canvas was calling out to be drawn upon, as if the man himself was dying to be stained by tainted hands. Natsuo couldn't help but drop his stare down to the ground once again. At least the ground in front of him, didn't tell such a sad story.

Nisei seemed to have been studying Soubi's face too. He stood there smiling, twirling another strand of dark hair around his finger.

Soubi's emotionless voice broke the silence. "This is my proposition. Don't kill the boy. Give him more time to regain the money lost."

Natsuo's pounding heart jumped into his throat, his gaze once again returning to this man named Soubi before him. _Soubi. _That's all he knew about him. His name. Soubi. So why was he doing all this for him? Why would Soubi gave a damn in he lived or died?

Around and around and around. Nisei's finger was still restlessly twirling. Around and around and around. And all this time, his eyes never moved off of Soubi. Frankly, Soubi's request was out of the question. Seimei had told him to kill the brat, so he would die. But in the meantime, he just had to know something. "Why?" Nisei's finger stopped its twirling, and his arms found their positions across his chest. "Why do you care if he lives or dies? What's it to you?" Natsuo clung on to every word.

"My business with the boy… is my own business."

A laugh broke free of Nisei as a crude smile formed over his lips. "Ah, so that's how it is, is it? You've turned to little boys for pleasure now, eh?" He continued to laugh for a while then continued, "However there's still one matter to be cleared up. Me. How does this profit me? Why should I even consider not killing your little friend?"

"If you let him live," Soubi turned his gaze to the floor as he continued. "You can do whatever you want to me."

Natsuo half expected to hear Nisei's mocking laugh ring out, but it didn't. The whole room remained in complete, undisturbed silence.

Nisei studied the man in front of him. "It might be interesting to see him try earn back the money he has lost… I give him three days. If the money is not back by then," Nisei averted his icy gaze to Natsuo. "He will die." He turned back to Soubi. "Do we have a deal?"

If Natsuo hadn't been watching his rescuer's lips, he would have never heard the reply. "Yes." It was nothing more than a whisper of submission.

"Very well then." With one violent motion, Nisei whipped around and kicked Natsuo on the stomach. "Get up, brat. This man has just bought your life. If you have any desire to live, I'd suggest finding your little friend that robbed you."

Natsuo picked himself up quickly, eyeing the two men before him as he collected himself. He didn't miss the change of tone Nisei used as he whispered in Sobui's ear now. He looked upon Soubi as if he was a new possession, as if he was only just planning the many uses he had in store for him. It only took a look into Nisei's smiling eyes to know that Soubi belonged to him now.

Nisei didn't take his eyes off of Soubi, but it was clear his words were directed towards Natsuo. "Now get out. Before I change my mind."

Natsuo ran outside not because he was afraid of Nisei or any of his empty threats. They had ceased to frighten him a long time ago. What he was afraid of was looking at his rescuer's face.

He did not want to see the canvas' new stains.


End file.
